The Widow and The Archer
by bluepearlcat
Summary: After being rejected by Natasha, Clint has had enough of life. he knew he shouldn't but he wants it stop. All of it Co-creators/betas are Frizzazzle(Wattpad) and What EvenIsSleep(ao3)
1. Stupid, stupid walls

Throughout the Black Widow's life she had never experienced true love, not until she had met Hawkeye.

A few months after joining S.H.I.E.L.D. she began to warm up to the archer, after all he was the one who gave her the choice of joining S.H.I.E.L.D. instead of him having to kill her like he was originally ordered to do by Fury. At first because of her training in the red room she trusted nobody. She was constantly calculating how many ways she could kill each person and how many ways she could escape each new room she entered -Not that she doesn't do that to this day, she stills has trust issues but has now learnt to open up to people, not falsely for missions like before.

To Clint she was his partner and so much more.

When he first met her he had seen a glimpse of hope in her eyes, a new brighter future another chance per say, like him an assassin for hire. Except she wasn't, she was dangerous not to say that Clint wasn't dangerous because that would be a lie.

But the widow was a cold blooded killer, yet she had such rare beauty that could snap your neck in heartbeat and not just physically but mentally too. Like many spies, she was a living nightmare that was dressed like a daydream. Despite all of this Clint still loved her, cared for her as if she was his.

He took her under his wing, guided her, helped her become whole again almost like a normal girl (except she was fluent in over sixteen languages, able to throw knives with precision as well as an expert in many hand to hand combat styles...the list goes on and on). But it didn't matter because Clint found the key to unlock her, she shared almost everything with him trusting that he would keep it secret and if even the tiniest bit of information slipped out of his mouth he knew she would kill him, but it went both ways as he told Natasha almost everything about his dark past.

Many agents thought the two wouldn't get along because of their training and what they had been through, but time and time again they were proven wrong by the assassins' unconditional love and affection for each other. Natasha took Clint's love for her in a brotherly way which broke the archer's heart, for he loved her far beyond family. She was his lover. Even though he felt that way towards Natasha he never confessed his love to her, afraid of what the consequences might be if he did.

To the average person being around their crush was hell but for Clint being around Nat was a thousand times worse as they were constantly fighting together on missions never knowing if it was their last battle. He always had to restrain himself when it came to her, knowing that they were always being watched by Fury as well as what she was capable of doing on her own the moment she sensed something was out of place.

The Widow too had a secret of her own, for she also loved Clint far more than a brother. She wanted to love him till the end of time. But her experiences of letting someone see beneath her mask were forced. People had done things to her, terrible things touched her in ways she could never forget and the worst thing about it was that she was powerless. Forced into submission without a choice, with no one to save her she was forced to live with those memories forever. Yet Clint had helped her, helped her see the light, that there was always a choice, always another way. For that she was forever grateful, but somehow she sensed something was wrong with Clint, like he was missing something or someone.

Like she was, except he was broken, shattered into a million tiny pieces. And yet he had hidden it so well that it almost went past her undetected, not until their last talk, where he asked her "Do you love me?"

From which she had replied with "Of course Clint, you're like a brother to me." That was when she realised...What had she done? In fact what had she been thinking to say such a stupid thing, until she remembered her walls, her fort. It was her protection, against feelings, against love...


	2. I don't want to live forever

The next thing she knew she was running through the S.H.I.E.L.D. Heli-carrier searching for Clint.

As she was frantically searching for the archer she was calling his name, well his code name that everyone knew him by. "Hawkeye! Where are you?! I need you! We need to talk!" Clint had heard Natasha calling for him but he couldn't bring himself to tell her the truth, but he had to see her one last time, one last goodbye.

After almost searching for Clint all day she couldn't believe how stupid she was for not looking in his room first. On her way to his room she couldn't help but wonder about what she was going to say to him, wondering what would happen if she messed up. Once she reached the archer's room she didn't know what to do, for once she didn't have a plan. So without thinking she opened the door.

The moment she entered the room Clint her pushed her up against the wall, kissing her desperately, like his life depended on it. Tilting his head to gain more access into her mouth, his tongue violently pushing against her own, and his hands holding down Natasha's arms pushing her harder against the wall the longer they kissed. After a minute the archer rested his forehead against the Widow's forehead as they were both gasping for air. Clint, still holding Natasha, voice croaky whispered in her ear "I had to see you one last time" But before Nat could say a word he put her in a sleeping hold, knowing that he had caught her off guard.

Once he knew that she was out he then tied her up to a chair knowing that he would be the first thing on her mind. If they had been alone he would have tied her up in her room, but he couldn't since they were on the S.H.I.E.L.D. Heli-carrier, which was filled with highly trained agents who would suspect that something was wrong instantly, and report it to Fury immediately.

Clint knew that should stay, stay for her but it was too much pain, besides he had no time for second thoughts as she would soon wake up in a few minutes not an hour, like it was for the average human being. Nobody at S.H.I.E.L.D. knew that he was depressed. Not even Nat, not anyone, not even Barney knew about it. Not that it even mattered anymore since they weren't close, not since the circus. In fact who would even miss him, no one even noticed him. As a matter of fact no one appreciates him or what he does.

It was as if they hired him because they felt sorry for him, plus it meant there was one less assassin to kill. Just thinking about this made Clint want to leave even more than he already did.

Enough was enough he just wanted to get this over and done with, and with that he plugged the bath tub and turned on the tap to let the bath fill with water. As the bath was filling up Clint started to remove his clothes starting with his top and ending with his socks until it was just him standing there alone naked with nothing but the scars that covered his defined, muscular body. He folded his clothes neatly in the corner of the bathroom floor, he then turned the tap off in the bath once the water was the perfect amount to accompany his body.

After taking one last look at Nat who was fast asleep he closed the door softly and picked up his steel throwing knife, that he had when he was an assassin for hire, and began to press the knife deep into the vein on his left wrist.

After cutting into the vein blood started to drip out of his wrist and in pain he instantly shouted "Ow! Shit! This hurts!" he then immediately shut up remembering that Natasha was still in his room. He now had to act faster knowing that the Widow would be up in minute as hearing Clint's voice in pain was a sixth sense to her (since Clint was always getting them into trouble on missions and so she always had to find a way to get them out of it). He then stepped into the bathtub and picked the bloody knife with his left hand that was violently shaking in pain and began to align the knife with the centre of his vein.

There he was standing there, Clint at their wedding, while she was walking down the aisle in an ivory dress that perfectly complemented her pale complexion. Until out of nowhere he was shouting in pain and from which Natasha began to stir from her slumber as she began to immediately recall the events of today.

Clint, he was in pain but how? She thought he had left S.H.I.E.L.D. not wanting to be tracked down by her. Until she remember how croaky his voice was. He had been upset almost as if he was about to put himself in a hole that she wouldn't be able to get him out of.

With that her eyes began to open adjusting to the darkness of the room, she tried taking a step forward but wasn't able to move. Her whole body was tied with rope to a chair in Clint's room, soon she was feeling for her knife that was attached to her suit at her wrists. Once widow had a grip of the knife she began cutting through the rope it took her longer than expected but then again we are talking about Clint whom knew her very well, especially when it came to the number of weapons in her inventory at one time.

The instant her hands were free she began to untie the rest of herself from the chair. The moment she was completely untied she scanned the room for any clues to which may help her find him.

She saw that the archer's bathroom door was closed, Hawkeye never closed his bathroom door even before going on a mission or holiday since he always had to pee and has no time for doors except for his bedroom door that was always closed no matter what the circumstance was.

After aligning the shaking knife carefully he began to press the knife into the vein on his right wrist. He made a small puncture before immediately moving the knife away from his wrist, hissing at the pain.

He knew he had to drag the blade deeply and quickly down his wrist for him to bleed out fully, but it was so painful. Despite all the pain he had to do it. He had to free himself from his sorrows, he then began to lower his heart rate and regain control of his left hand.

Realigning the blade he moved the away from his wrist still maintaining the position of both the knife and his wrist as he took a final glance around at his surroundings.

He took a deep breath and began to move the knife towards his wrist but before the knife was even able to puncture the skin a black titanium knife cut through the bathroom door and pinned the Archer's knife to the bathroom tiles. Clint flinched when the knife flew out of his hand to which was followed with the door being kicked down by the Widow who had tears streaming down her face the instant she saw what he was doing.

Everything had happened so fast that Clint just stood there completely motionless as he began to realise how much he meant to Natasha and how much pain he would have caused her. "Cl..Clint?!" She whispered, her voice barely audible from crying, His emotions then began to come into play and as she reached out for him he collapsed in her arm crying, with blood dripping down his arms and onto the widow's clothes as well as dropping in the bath as she was embracing him as he was apologising for what he had done.


	3. I'm so sorry

"I'm…I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you." Clint kept repeating quietly, whether it was his or Nat's comfort, he was not sure and yet it did little to comfort either one of them. In fact, it felt like it made matters worse. That was a lie; if he told her that he wanted everything to stop, he honestly would not see the light of day. The thought of him a former circus act, assassin and current agent in a mental hospital or even at counselling made him chuckle and just as said chuckle was about to leave his throat a hiss left instead. His eyes shut tightly as the pain started from his left wrist and spread throughout his arm. "Hey. Shh, I just need to wrap up. Your... Your …your wrist." slowly he re-opened his eyes and when he did his heart shattered at the sight before him. There she was Natalia, not Natasha but Natalia the girl he was meant to kill all those years ago, frightened of what could have happened if she hadn't stopped him a moment later. Tears were streaming down her ghostly pale face as she began to wrap his…his wrist. His fucking wrist. He had caused her all this fucking pain. Her hands were violently shaking, like the rest of her as he had burnt through her mask, her walls and her fort of protection against feelings, against love. He too was violently shaking not from fear or pain but from anger. His blood was boiling, he wanted to kill whoever caused her so much pain, oh wait he already tried that and well, that didn't quite go to plan now, did it? The answer is no. No, it did not.

A hand pressed down against his abdomen causing him to regain his focus, shit he was naked. In addition, to make matters worse he was naked in front of Natalia (it was not as if they hadn't seen each other naked before, but this…this felt different). Her eyes softened in sadness when he met her gaze, man there was no keeping secrets from her, yet he was able to keep this from her for so long. "I…I just. I just…wanted. Wanted it to stop." He blurted out he barely registered what he had just said until he heard the whimper that left Talia's throat unintentionally. "You wanted. You…you wanted It." she gulped, tears started to stream down her face like a river. "You wanted it to stop." She gulped again as she repeated what she had just said. "You wanted it to stop. All of it." She took a breath "You wanted to leave. Leave me." She stated.

He froze unable to react to what she had just said. Yes, he wanted it to stop and wanted to leave but never in his goddamn life did he ever want to leave her alone, not again. Fuck it he thought, he had nothing left to lose so why not tell her his sad sob story of a life and his stupid ass depression. "Natasha, please…let me explain." He sucked in a deep breath. "I know you hate me right know but please let tell you why, I never wanted to hurt you." He pleaded. "…Never intentionally." He didn't care that he was practically begging he had already lost all his dignity. "You can hate me, hurt me, and leave me. But please, let me explain." Fuck, he seemed so pathetic right now, nothing new then; he said out of pure spite towards himself, hell all he was a pathetic piece of shit.

"Okay. I'll listen." Natalia whispered, and she did, for the next half hour as Clint talked about the events of his life that caused his depression only stopping briefly to calm his thoughts enough for him to continue. Towards the end of the conversation, Clint mentioned Loki and the Chitauri invasion that happened almost a year ago. It had taken months before Clint started taking missions again, because of how livid the nightmares had been. He told her what Loki said about him being a worthless nobody that was only there out of pity, he told her everything, and for once, he felt a huge weight lift off his self-loathing shoulders.

When he finished a silence swept over the bathroom that maintained too much tension for either one of them to be comfortable. A few moments past as Clint gazed at Natasha who just sat there trying to process what he had just said. She needed air she decided all too quickly, throughout the whole time Clint had been talking all she could think about was how if only she had noticed that something was wrong with him, she could have helped him, helped him get better instead of letting him silently destroy himself. The guilt kept hitting her like harsh waves of water; she started to feel as she was drowning. At some point, she met Clint's gaze and tears started to stream down her face once more, she couldn't breathe, Clint reached out to touch her hand but she pushed it away and stood up immediately.

He looked up, his glassy grey eyes looking into her cloudy blue eyes, "Nat, I…"

"Just don't Clint…just don't" with her tone as cold as ice, she turned with tears down her face and left.

"NAT please…" the door closed "I'm sorry" he whispered. "FUCK!" he slammed his fist against the wall and then rested his head against the cool tiles of the wall. He needed to get to her before it was too late, again. Fuck. Why was he such a goddam mess? He attempted to stand up but fell back down again his head fuzzy from trying to stand up so fast. "Take two," he mumbled as he stood up again, slightly slower than the last time. He reached for the door handle but couldn't turn the nob as his wrist was too tightly wrapped for movement. 'Fuck it' he thought as he grabbed his knife and cut through the layers of bandage around his left wrist. He looked down to see his dick and had to do a double take before realising he was still naked. "Shit." He had to put some clothes on before leaving his room, not that it would have been the first time he ran around the hallway naked; he just really didn't want anyone else to see his cuts. He ran into his bedroom forgetting the clothes in the bathroom as they were wet and he didn't want to attract too much attention from the other agents, not again anyway. He grabbed the first things he could find in his closet which were a pair of black boxers, a pair of socks with little pepperoni pizzas on them, camo trousers and a thin black t-shirt, that fit him a little too snugly. Without giving them a second thought, he started to put them on as he was making his way to the door.


End file.
